Karen Black: Five Easy Pieces

For a waitress like me stuck in a man's tie and a boring white button down, she's the ultimate style icon. Her black eyeliner and over-lashed black lashes perfectly match her pink-painted pout, and her peach diner dress and white toeless heels look awesome... even better when she throws her leopard print coat on top of it all. But my favorite Rayette Dipesto style companent is her immaculate hair. It's bleached golden. It curls around her face like an angel's halo hovers above a cherub's head. It looks like a million bucks whether up or down. That's why when she tells her (unknown to Rayette) foil and main Nicholson competitor Katherine that she loves her "head of hair," I laugh every time. Katherine's hair looks like a frizzed out mess of shit, and her outfits that consist of high-waisted sagging jeans, hideous Dances with Wolves coats, rose-colored turtle neck sweaters and armpit hair (I swear...) don't hold a candle to DiPesto's duds. Might Rayette be a little unsophisticated? Desperate? A tad annoying and a bit unable to take the hint? Who cares? Girlfriend was ready to love Bobby DuPea till the end of time and to do it with manners, a song in her heart, and the upmost level of style and chic ever seen in American 1970's cinema.

Plus Karen Black can act the hell out of any role, and anyone that can hold her own opposite Jack Nicholson is okay in my book.

don't think twice, it's alright.

brittish 1/25/10 classic flashback craze

At work today I found myself thrilled with the radio tunes that floated from the speakers. First "Baby I'm Yours," the classic Barbara Lewis song that Arctic Monkeys covered in 2006.

Next, "Close to You" by the Carpenters. Imagine the person you die over walking into a room with animated bluebirds flying over his shoulders. Makes you GRIN every time; works like a charm!

How about a little country? "Stand By Your Man" by Tammy Wynette for when you want to wallow in pre-feminist blues that surface in every girl from time to time.

"Baby Love" by The Supremes makes me jump around like a conejita, flippin' my bleached blonde pony tail for joy.

Want to slit your wrists? Then how about "The Endof the World" by Skeeter Davis. I dig her hair so much and wish I could sing with such pathetic/awesomeness.

And best for last, "Be My Baby" by The Ronettes. Let the lyrics speak for themselves.

"The night we met I knew I needed you so/and if I had the chance I'd never let you go/So won't you say you love me?/I'll make you so proud of me/We'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go/So won't you please (be me, be my) Be my little baby/Say you'll be my darlin'/Be my baby now/Ooh whoa whoa oh-ohh/I'll make you happy, just wait and see/for every kiss you give me I'll give you three/Oh since the day I saw you I have been waiting for you/You know I will adore you till eternity."

i love me some joaquin phoenix

Joaquin Force is back and looks pretty seksi. Not that I didn't like his grizzly beard (which Justin Bobby totally ripped off for his Heidi/Spencer mountain man wedding look on The Hills) but it's nice to see JFORCE looking coherent and speaking out for a a great cause.

break-up makeover, 8 months later

i bleached it again, bitches.

Drew and Chloe won Golden Globes!

Congrats to my two faves... now MKO just needs a life-time achievement award and we're good to go.

The Cribs at Irving Plaza

Welcome back, brothers. You had great energy. The crowd consisted of very young boys and girls who knew all the words. The set list did not change, nor did Ryan's outfit from the last time I saw you. But tried and true works, and the Cribs work very hard to be one of the best bands in the entire world and my favorite of the moment to see live.

I won't say much more than that because I'd be repeating myself from all my previous reviews, but when Ryan Jarman stage dives and unleashes 175 lbs of unadulterated Jahhhman body mass flying at 50 mph over your head, well, that's rock and roll. That's poetry.

adam green and the dead trees open up for the cribs

So, last night the Dead Trees and Adam Green (supported by DT) opened for The Cribs at Irving Plaza/The Fillmore. Because I love both opening acts so much, they deserve their own post. The above pics are in opposite of chronological order from top to bottom. Dead Trees (now from LA?) started out with early songs "Television" and "Shelter." They played tight, clean Pavementy songs as usual, and I can't say enough about how underrated these guys are! (And sexy... my friend once called lead singer Michael a "fucking cherub," but my heart stops for guitarist/keyboardist/gray tee-shirt wearing skinny dream of a man Matt.) If you can't spring for their excellent album King of Rosa, then d/load their latest Daytrotter set.

Now, onto Adam Green. I kind of want to talk about him in the context of Julian Casablancas. My first exposure to AG happened at the Central Park Summerstage show The Strokes did in 2003. Adam opened up, and I was like, who is this freaky, skinny little Jules-Woody-Dave Grohl mix singing like Jim Morisson and dancing like a toddler? And I quickly learned and devoured his at-the-time tiny oeurve. Over the years, Adam has acted as the Hyde to Julian's Jekyll. As Julian's productivity petered out over the decade, Adam's spiraled to new heights (Garfield, Friends of Mine, Gemstones, Jacket Full of Danger, Sixes and Sevens, and the upcoming Minor Love). While Jules and Co. played bigger venues and became recluses in their own right (AHJ has a fucking cabin in the woods, people) Adam Green played free shows at Sidewalk Cafe, opened for pal Ben Kweller @ Southpaw, and made himself generally pretty accessible and friendly in real life (he'll always shake a hand, take a picture, or just smile like a happy little kid) and on the internet (Twitter, his blogge, etc.) And while Julian quit smoking and drinking and generally calmed down his early twenties antics in the favor of better health and family happiness, Adam Green has increasingly increased his increasingly increasified drug-fueled crazy train craziness.

I won't lie. I enjoy a freaktastical AG show just like everyone else (Santos Double Kokomo after his "Just a Friend" duet with Lissy Trullie kicked ass), but last night he kind of scared me a little bit. In the wake of people dropping dead from prescription painkillers and drugs all over this town (Dash Snow, Jay Reatard...???..., Brittany Murphy, Heath Ledger, M.J., etc.) I just want him to take care of himself. Yes, Adam always seems like he's one of the crowd, the joker, the class clown, and semi-in control of himself, but I would absolutely hate to lose him in the long list of (local) celebrity deaths that have plagued such young visionaries (I believe he is one) in our Generation. So I won't say more than that, just take it easy on the coke and what have you, and keep making music for my life. You kick ass, you're so much fun, and I want to see you play for a long, long time.

julian casablancas at terminal 5, night 2

He's the best, and he always will be. My pictures suck because I shake when he sings. Nivardo came with me tonight so it was super fun. The energy wasn't quite as intense as at last night's show, but the crowd loved it, and I haven't seen so many beautiful boys in a long time. To the boy who stood beside me smoking mad cigarettes (we spoke about Telepathe sucking) I haven't seen someone I didn't know who made me want to rip their clothes off that much in a long time. So thanks for making me remember that you people still exist. AND THANKS JULIAN for what you give to the world. We love you!!

julian casablancas at terminal 5, night 1

I like what Miss Modern Age wrote about the show, and I agree with everything except the part where she says the other Strokes kinda act like distractions to the Julian-ness of the Strokes. I get what she means, but I think the anxieties and tensions that exist between the band members in real life and on stage are what give us that deliciously composed layered rage that make the Strokes GO...

Last night was totally worth the 3 year wait. It was like seeing someone you used to see all the time 3 years in the future and really being happy for them because they've grown and matured in the best way: they now feel comfortable with themselves. Julian played his heart out to his home city and everyone there was all love and hearts and "kisses" and wanted him to succeed. His show kicked ass; he looked beautiful; he made me happy to be alive in this world because such amazing things exist and humans are capable of so many great things.

"4 Chords of the Apocalypse" brought me close to tears. His voice is the immaculate distillation of all the intensity, passion, anger, and beauty that I feel like exists within myself and cannot sing... His voice is the closest aural approximation of the poetry I wish I had the ability to write. He is Roberto Bolano, Kurt Cobain, JD Salinger, van Gogh, Warhol, O'Hara, Plath, all the best parts of a Billy Corgan guitar solo, my first boyfriend's sad brown eyes, the first sip of a strong latte, kitten Timmy, good sex, sloppy drunk sex, Federer winning the French Open, the Olden Times, the day I got my braces off, Matt Dillon K-Holes, GVS films, cute skinny homeless-looking boys on the train, bacon, wine, vodka, bourbon, Blueberry Pancakes, Donald's teeth, McGinley photos, War and Peace, the night I met Scott Tankel... Julian is all the best things in life.

And tonight I get to do it all over again!

Elvis Forever

Everybody that I speak to knows I live and die by Roberto Bolano. So of course I bought the spectacular book Roberto Bolano: The Last Interview & Other Conversations and ravenously devoured it in a less-than-48-hr. period. While the interviews contain various "Bolano Bombs" as I like to call them, my favorite moment occurs in "The Last Interview" conducted by Monica Maristain for Playboy Mexico in July, 2003. After asking Bolano a series of questions in which he must pick one of three choices given, Maristain queries, "John Lennon, Lady Di, or Elvis Presley?"

Bolano smartly answers, "The Pogues. Or Suicide. Or Bob Dylan. Well, but let's not be pretentious: Elvis forever. Elvis and his golden voice, with a sheriff's badge, driving a Mustang and stuffing himself full of pills."

This response encapsulates what I love best about Bolano's writing and what it evokes. The Romanticization of Elvis as the ultimate, aging, drug-addicted rock star (poet) iconizes Bolano's own position, or at least the one held by his alter-ego Arturo Belano, in his oeurve. In The Savage Detectives, aka the best novel of all time, Belano and his partner in crime Ulises Lima run the Mexican Visceral Realists and appear and disappear at random and mysteriously throughout the course of the book, mythologizing themselves in the process. It doesn't hurt that the entire middle section of the novel consists of first-hand accounts of what Belano and Lima are like and the affect they have on the other poets rambling through Mexico, and probably the most succinct description states that they were like two Dennis Hoppers running around... In any case Bolano never fears proximity to the lowliest and most disgusting and most fearsome aspects of life, that sueno, that pesadilla.

Bolano devoted his art to marginal groups, to giving voice to whom he calls in Amulet "the kids who lived in a lonely world of love and slang" because he once was one of those kids himself.

And like Elvis "The King" slowly and compulsively killing himself with his glamorous pills in his shiny black car and his slicked-back pompadour, moving ever closer to the abyss, Bolano understands and thrives on these "sadomasochistic" aspects and urges that construct this modern life which he lists as: "That's the way love is, and slang, and the streets, and sonnets. And the sky at five in the morning."

Youth in Revolt

Yesterday I saw Youth in Revolt. Francois Dillinger, first of all, might be the best name for an alter-ego ever, and his basis for existence (Jean-Paul Belmondo in Breathless... nice loafers!) beats any other basis for an alter-ego as well. This movie features pretty standard Cera moments of extreme awkwardness, like walking with his arms crossed in front of his body and his wrist bent like it's hanging from a hinge. Some lines border classic: "I want to tickle your belly-button... from the inside," and I have to say that Justin Long breathes some necessary "cool" fresh air (and long hair!) into the pic. If you want to enjoy an hour and a half at the movies, go see it. If you wanna wait till it's on instant Netflix that won't hurt you either.

Hopper, man

This is an actual marriage proposal.

Christopher Owens, I love you. On his myspace page he says, "Even if nobody ever cares about you, you can always still care about somebody. We're all looking for love and meaning in our lives, i believe that."

Me too, sugar. Me too.

And he lists his heroes as Kurt Cobain and River Phoenix. Match made in heaven? I think so. Album kicked the ass of all other 2009 albums and wormed its way into my crummy, black heart. Buy it, bitches. And marry me, Christopher!

grunge=glory

I'm following my New Years' resolutions... (sort of). Are you? I have flossed every single day and have written more than my share for each new January calendar square as well. I can't say my make-up removal and no dessert policies have progressed as swimmingly. However an as yet un-proclaimed res seems to have emerged. A movie a day keeps complacency away and the creativity flowing! Tonight I shall fall back into my beloved Matt Dillon K-Hole with Singles on Instant Netflix. God, I adore this man and his antics. Goodnight everyone!

NYE 2010 The Virgins

So today at work I got a sweet picture text from Adam (above.) I had to save it and zoom to find out who that was... The beard and long sleeves threw me off because you know I'd know that divine physique anywhere! It's Donald Cumming from the Virgins playing their show on NYE in Chicago. THANKS ADAM!

Then I did a little Flickr-stalking and found the above gem. Now, that's the Donald I know and love!

James Franco Top 10 Criterion

After spending this weekend watching the following: My Own Private Idaho, Revolutionary Road, Drugstore Cowboy, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Los Embrazos Rotos, and Mala Noche, I came across James Franco's list of top 10 favorite Criterion Collection films.

How happy am I that he loves My Own Private Idaho and Mala Noche (not to mention Gimme Shelter)? It just makes sense.

Above photo of Franco pulling a Phoenix from Criterion.com.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2010

after the hellhole ratrace of 2009, 2010 owes me and everyone else i know BIG TIME, which does not mean any of us will get anything, but here's hoping it will be better better better for all of us!!

i spent this dia de la cruda with my 2nd favorite set of boys on a bike. i could look at river phoenix all day long. gvs sure knows how to pick 'em!

now, onto revolutionary road.